Black Heart Inertia
by Matthew Hage
Summary: Kakuzu rots in prison, awaiting his execution. His animosity grows against the people that betrayed him. His people. His home. He waits until he can escape, growing mad with each passing day. Is madness key to freedom? Graphic violence, strong language.


**Black Heart Inertia**

**Day 1:**

A feeling of betrayal is only as strong as the feeling of trust. The more you trust, the more you feel betrayed when someone finally stabs you in the back. Figuratively or literally. So how betrayed should a person feel when they are raped by their home, the place they have spent all of their life? You grew up knowing only that land, those structures, those people. Small enough that everyone knew your name, but large enough that it made you feel important. What does one feel when all of that is suddenly flipped around? How are you supposed to feel when one failure is enough to make everyone scream for blood, crying out for your severed head?

Angry. Furious. Wrathful. That's what you are supposed to feel. It makes you want to take the heads of every one of those bastards that you once thought stood behind you and squeeze until they bleed from their fucking ears.

They've given me forty-three days to think about my failure. Forty-three days in this cell without food, limited water. It's laughable, really. The training we were put through as shinobi made us resistant to that sort of torture - and worse.

They think they can break me.

They have no idea what kind of wrath they've brought unto themselves.

**Day 2:**

A boy named Shinichi visited my cell today. He was apparently the one assigned to bring my supply of water. He can't bring himself to look at me, disgusted with me and my failure I presume. When I get out of here, that kid will be the first to die.

I also noticed something about my cell today. Something about the metal, the stone built into the walls and the bars. It drags me down, makes me feel sluggish whenever I touch them. I can feel my very essence being drawn out of me. I suppose it is no surprise that someone in Takigakure has a skill like this. It would be their only way to prevent dangerous criminals from escaping.

I guess they realized - I'm pretty fucking dangerous.

**Day 3:**

Today I tested a jutsu against of the walls, a Doton. I can't seem to make anything move. There is better defense to this place than I previously thought. Just makes it all the better when I finally break it down.

**Day 4:**

I keep playing the events over and over in my head. I wonder where I went wrong, what I did to let that son of a bitch beat me. Konohagakure... those elitist bastards and their damnedable leader. That Senjuu Hashirama. When I first received the assignment to assassinate him, I couldn't have been more pleased. I was chosen for the task for a reason. I am the best of the best. If there was anyone for the job, it was definitely me.

I can feel a rasp in my throat. Shinichi hasn't brought my water in two days.

**Day 5:**

Doton and Suiton. Combined into something different. Something unique. He called it Mokuton. I need to figure out how he did it. If he can do it, then I must be able to as well. But how? What is his secret?

**Day 6:**

Shinichi arrived today with my water. He lingered around outside my cell longer than he had before. Normally he departed swiftly just as soon as he had arrived. Today he spent a good deal of time staring at me through the small window of my cell door.

My fist slammed into the metal, ringing out through the cavernous underground prison and ripping the flesh from my knuckles. The boy cried out, quickly closing the shutter of the door's window. I could hear his footsteps carrying him down the hall and up the stairs rapidly as the blood dripped down my fingers.

**Day 7:**

The end of the first week. I felt like I was some sideshow attraction today. Countless Jounin of Takigakure looked through my cell door at me and I could hear their whispers, though muffled through the thickness of the solid steel and rock all around me. I could also make out the voices of younger people. Students. They were Jounin, showing their students the outcast. Kakuzu the Pariah. The failure of Takigakure.

Various elders of the village visited with the daimyo of Taki no Kuni. They spoke louder than the Jounin and their children. They wanted me to hear them. They wanted me to be humiliated. Embarrassed. They wanted me to cower in shame, to loathe and abhor myself.

I wanted to reach through those walls and tear off their arms.

**Day 8:**

No visitors today. I sat in the corner all day. My hand had blood on it and I can't remember how it got there.

**Day 9:**

I've deduced that the blood is my own. I can tell from the missing pieces of flesh. How did it get there?

**Day 10:**

That kid showed up again, with my water. I hadn't even noticed the constricting of my throat until I saw him. Again, he stayed. He stayed, he stared, and I stared back

He told me that he knew who I was.

I said, no shit.

At that point, there was no shutting the kid up. He called me a legend, he said I was the greatest thing to happen to the village. He told me that if anyone could represent the strength and determination, the willpower of Takigakure, it was me. Then he apologized. He said he was sorry for everything that was happening to me. He said he knew it was wrong. Then he said he was sorry he could not let me out.

I told him the only people who need to be sorry if I get out are the ones that put me in here in the first place.

He left then, without a word.

**Day 11:**

The more I think about it, the less I remember about my encounter with the Shodai Hokage of Konohagakure. I remember receiving the mission. I remember leaving for Konohagakure. I remember arriving in their borders. Then I remember running into two patrolling units. The first fell easily enough - they never even saw me coming. The second hit me from behind. Everything went black. All I remember is the sudden realization and satisfaction that they were all dead.

Then I moved on to my target.

**Day 12:**

I spent the day racking my brain, trying to remember what happened with Senjuu Hashirama. It came it bursts, short bits and pieces. I could see myself trading attacks with him that were equally evaded and guarded. We circled the small office repeatedly until he finally managed to sneak in a blow. The next thing I can remember is the office being much more spacious, the ceiling blown away completely.

I remember debris piercing my torso.

I remember not feeling a thing.

**Day 13:**

Why did he let me survive? Even if he believed my wounds to be fatal enough to kill me, he should have done the job himself. That's the way I would've done it. There was some weakness to him. He couldn't bring himself to kill me. He hesitated too long and it gave me that opportunity to escape. It'll be the death of him.

**Day 14:**

Shinichi brought me water again today. I didn't care. I could hear him rambling about something. I didn't care. He should've killed me. Senjuu Hashirama should have killed me. It would have been better if he had killed me. He is going to wish that he had killed me.

Him and every damn person that gets in my way.

**Day 15:**

I spent the day trying to remember how many Konoha shinobi I killed in the process of my escape. Most of it is a blur. All I know is there was blood everywhere. Mine. Theirs. Everywhere. The last thing I truly remember after the fight was trying to get back home.

**Day 16:**

My mind keeps flickering back to the moment I stepped back into Takigakure. As if the news had reached them before I could even remember it myself, every eye that turned toward me was one of disapproval. Judgmental disappointment. No one said a word to me as I dragged myself through the streets of the village, still leaving small puddles of blood behind me, until I was approached by two of the elders of the village.

Failure. Derelict. Incompetent. These words were all they said to me before telling me that I was to be punished.

I received the announcement right there in the middle of the street from an elder, a woman named Hiromi.

All I could remember after that was the warmth of Hiromi's blood soaking my hands as seven Jounin had to drag me away.

**Day 17:**

When I woke today, Shinichi was already waiting for me. By this point, I'd gotten used to going a few days without water. I was still not used to the boy's attention.

The day went by quickly as he asked me to tell him stories of my triumphs and successes, growing up in Takigakure as a legend. I knew he'd already heard all of the stories before - he just wanted to hear them from me.

I amused the kid. Today, I told him of the time my group joined with a bunch from Kusagakure to fend off potential invaders from the northwest, Tsuchi no Kuni. He seemed somewhat disappointed there was the occasional black spot in my memory.

I must be slipping in my old age.

**Day 18:**

Another visitor today. The elder, Hiromi. She looked as pale as a ghost to see me. It could have something to do with the missing arm that I was apparently responsible for. Can't say I remember doing that, but I'm damn glad that it happened.

She tried to entice me into becoming enraged at her, throwing around words like "failure" again. She just put me to sleep.

**Day 19:**

Someone different stopped by my cell today. I didn't recognize him but I could tell he was a Jounin. The guy knew how to carry himself and was wary of getting too close to my cell door. He was cautious.

He told me that they were rationing my water supply again. He left behind a water bottle and told me to be sure to savor it.

I told him to leave before I make him choke on it.

**Day 20:**

No visitors today. A long, quiet day. I took care in only taking small drinks from the water bottle. I had no idea when they would come back to give me more. I was no idiot, though. I knew how to take care of myself in these conditions.

Were they underestimating me?

**Day 21:**

Still no visitors. I didn't drink any water today.

**Day 22:**

Nobody.

**Day 23:**

Do they remember I'm down here?

**Day 24:**

They're really starting to piss me the fuck off.

**Day 25:**

No more water. No more patience. I swear I'll kill the next son of a bitch I see.

**Day 26:**

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**Day 27:**

It's dark today. I can't see. I can't remember what happened. Yesterday was a blur, like I had too much to drink. I try to sleep off the growing ache in my head and my wrists.

**Day 28:**

I was moved. When the fuck did they move me? I'm deeper into the cell block. Someplace I haven't seen before. My wrists still ache. The bastards shackled me, they actually shackled my arms against the back wall. It's been almost ten days since I remember seeing someone. What the Hell is going on?

My throat is dry and felt rusted shut as I try to scream.

**Day 29:**

Everything is dark. I can't see at all. There's no sign of even the most mundane light. I feel the creeping of insects as they crawl over my bare torso. I feel flakes chip off from my hands and arms each time I shift in my restraints. No matter how I try, I can't speak now. I slump back against the well and accept my fate. What day is today?

**Day 30:**

Light. I see light as the door in the far end of the room opens up and I hiss. I work my vocal chords to the best of their ability, trying to moisten my mouth and throat with my own lacking saliva in a desperate attempt to make some carnal noise. I can see he carries a dimly lit lantern in his hand, held up near his face.

It's the man who left me the water bottle. He introduces himself as Shohei, and I recognize the name. He is one of the responsible parties of Takigakure's torture and interrogation squad.

He sets the lamp on a hook not too far from where I am shackled and pulls some tool from a pouch behind him, a hook-like blade with a sharp serrated edge along the inside.

He asks me if I've ever been tortured before.

He tells me that I'll like it. But not as much as he will.

**Day 31:**

I wake up and forget where I am. The darkness, cold lonely shadows, remind me. The only warmth that I can take comfort in is the feel of my own blood staining my skin. I shiver in spite of the fact that I can feel it caked all over my body. I try to recall what happened the day before and my mind immediately punishes me with visages of flesh being peeled from my wrists, forearms, biceps, even my torso.

I faintly remember someone from the medical division visiting me to tend to my wounds that night.

Shohei isn't here. I wait for him.

**Day 32:**

The feeling of that familiar hook-shaped blade against the side of my face jars me from my sleep. I open my eyes to see Shohei there, smiling at me. He asks me if I slept well and I try to gather enough fluids in my mouth to spit in his eye. I can see from the light of the nearby lantern that it is mostly blood from a wound that periodically opens in my mouth.

He tells me that it's not very nice of me to do that.

I feel the tip of the blade slice through my skin in a mathematic fashion that makes it all the more painful. Everything goes black again.

**Day 33:**

The medic visits again. I can't recognize him. Maybe it's a her. I don't care.

I ask her to help me. I ask him to help me.

I say, please, get me out.

The medic looks at me. The medic spits in my face.

The medic leaves.

**Day 34:**

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

Get me out

**Day 35:**

Shohei again.

Barely stay awake.

Hurts.

Makes hurt more.

Cold steel.

Inside my mouth.

Cut up to ear.

I look happy.

I bleed.

**Day 36:**

Sleep.

**Day 37:**

.. .. . .... ... ......... .. . . . . ............. . .. . . .............. . .... .. . .... .. . . . ..... .. . . .......

**Day 38:**

I can't remember what's going on anymore. I don't remember how long I've been in here. I don't remember anyone. Everyone looks alike. They're all the same.

Someone is touching me. I can't see. There is a lantern lighting the room, but I have my eyes shut so tight so I can't see anyone. I see nothing besides the dying blood vessels in my eyelids.

I feel cold steel, a needle, sliding through flaps of flesh on my arms, then some strange texture. They pull tight and I feel the force pull on my skin still partially attached to my musculature.

They are sewing me back together.

**Day 39:**

Whoever was sewing me back together didn't finish. They continue today. Whoever it is, they are working on my mouth now - sewing back the pieces of skin from the edges of my lips up to my ears. I sit through it all. I let it happen. There's nothing else I can do.

They speak now. It's a man. No one I know, though. He tells me that everything is finished. He tells me that I should thank him for keeping me alive. I don't respond, but he tells me I can speak. He tells me that I should be grateful. He tells me that he has great plans for me, that he sees my potential.

I open my eyes to look at him finally, and I see one glowing red eye gazing back at me from a face aged like wood, a wide and welcoming smile.

He tells me that he can help me.

**Day 40:**

The man visits me again today. He asks me if I want his help. I ask him who he is.

He says that it's not important and asks me if I want to leave. I don't answer him. He asks me again if I want to leave. He asks me if I want to get my revenge. If I want to kill everyone responsible for this. He asks me if I want to live forever. I don't need to tell him. He already knows my answer now.

He tells me that he will return.

**Day 41:**

No one today. Did he lie? Was this just some trick from the elders to get my hopes up? To let me feel excited before they crush me completely?

**Day 42:**

Someone comes to visit me and it is not who I am expecting. Shohei enters with his lantern held close to his face. He sets it on the hook and leans in close to inspect me. I hear him say how the medic did a better job of piecing me back together than he had hoped. He says it won't matter. Not after tomorrow.

He tells me that I will get what I justly deserve. He tells me that this is revenge. He tells me that this is payback. Payback for killing his brother. Payback for killing Shinichi.

Two weeks, he tells me. Two weeks since I had seen the boy. Two weeks since I had been locked in this room. Two weeks that I cannot remember.

He starts to leave, telling me that I deserve all of this.

Before he closes the door behind him, I promise him that I'll rip out his still-beating heart right before his eyes.

**Day 43:**

My last day. Just when I thought that the stranger forsook me, I wake to find my bindings undone. For the first time in over two weeks, I am freed. The door is still closed and there is but dim light from a dying candle in the room. But I can move freely on my own. I try to get used to my body again, falling to the ground with my first steps. It is there I find a piece of parchment on the ground. I look at it, its words barely visible from the candle's light.

I will seek you out when the time is right, it reads.

Remember your debt, it reads.

The sound of the door creaking open at the far end of the room jolts me to my senses. I know immediately what to do. My instincts take over as if they had never left. Before Shohei can even realize what is going on, I have him pinned against the wall. I can feel my chakra pulsing through my body, no longer drained from me. I realize that in this room, it must have been the shackles. The shackles that left blacks rings burnt into wrists.

He tries to fight against me, but through the rage and the return of my strength I can easily over power him. I wrestle him to the ground and bash the back of his head against the stone floor just to deter him from fighting me any longer.

I press the tips of my fingers to his chest, slightly to his left.

I ask him if he remembers the promise I made. His eyes widen in fright.

I don't care that his screams will attract more as I force my hand into his chest.


End file.
